


what in carnation?

by Jsscshvlr



Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Identity Issues, Is it an au if someone just owns a flower shop? Asking for a friend, Light Angst, Strangers to Lovers, This is not a love triangle kinda, Well it kinda is but two of them are one person so it doesn't count, With a happy ending ofc, flower shop au, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 22:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jsscshvlr/pseuds/Jsscshvlr
Summary: The second she’s on the roof, Bubba jumps out of her arms and runs over to sit in her guest’s lap.“Bubba! And how are you today?” He says, letting the dog lick his mask, which Michelle tries to tell him is gross but really she’s just jealous Bubba’s felt his face.“Evening, Spidey.” She says with a bored tone.“MJ.” He responds in kind.“I liked it more when you were too nervous to be mean to me.”ORMJ likes Spider-Man and Peter Parker. She really wishes they were the same person
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Comments: 33
Kudos: 131





	what in carnation?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Awakening5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Awakening5/gifts).



> Happy birthday to my fave! Hope you like the title, I 1 hundred per% googled it.
> 
> Thank you as always to Hyp my ever lovely friend and beta xxxxxxx
> 
> TW: mention of a gun. (End note explanation)

Michelle locks the door to her flower shop and pulls the shutters down with a smile on her face. Sure, it could be because it’s almost Valentine’s day so the business has picked up again after the hellish month that is January. It could be because she had a delicious sandwich for lunch. It could also be because the sun has been out more over the last few weeks. It definitely has something to do with her dog, Bubba pulling on his lead to go home. It might have something to do with her evening’s plans - but she couldn’t be certain. 

She walks the seven steps from the front of her store to the door leading to her apartment that is located on top of the shop. She loves the convenience and she hopes that whenever she’s ready to move, she’ll be ready to let the shop go as well. When she first stumbled across the listing to the shop she thought it was serendipity. Her mother, Lily, had just passed away and left Michelle with her inheritance and a gaping hole in her heart. 

She didn’t have the mental capacity to go to college in the way she had always dreamed of, and after talking to her dad at length, she decided she’d start this venture and when she felt she could do her best at college - she’d give up the shop. 

It turns out four years later, she can do both. It’s tricky for sure, and often she questions whether the late nights and the stress are worth it. But she wouldn’t give up, ‘wild at heart’ for anything. It keeps her close to her mum as she’s always making sure she stocks yellow lilies even if she hates them. They were mum’s favourites so she keeps them in her eye line within the store at all times. 

When she gets into her apartment Bubba runs to go and sit on the couch, his black wiry fur blending in with the blanket she bought to protect her furniture. She laughs at him because he’s always a whole mood and always lazy. She’ll take him for a walk before her meeting later, though he’ll come with her to the roof anyway. 

The time between closing the store and needing to be on the roof is usually about four hours and in that time Michelle cooks (sometimes), eats (all the time), walks Bubba (when he doesn’t whine about it) and finishes college work. Today she also decides to spruce up her apartment. The better weather always puts her in a spring cleaning mood, and she knows there’s a clothes fayre on down at FEAST this weekend, so she goes through her stuff deciding what she doesn’t need anymore and anything she does like but thinks would be more beneficial to someone else. In the end, she has three garbage bags of clothes she can’t remember buying, and at least thirty percent of them used to belong to her mum - so she figures she’s doing okay with this whole grief thing. 

It’s nine forty-five when she hears the tapping against her fire escape and a smile blooms across her face as she quickly goes to put another pair of sweats on. The weather is the best it’s been all year but it’s still February in Queens. She grabs her thick blanket off the arm of the sofa in one arm, and her backpack of snacks and Bubba in the other. 

The second she’s on the roof, Bubba jumps out of her arms and runs over to sit in her guest’s lap.

“Bubba! And how are you today?” He says, letting the dog lick his mask, which Michelle tries to tell him is gross but really she’s just jealous Bubba’s felt his face.

“Evening, Spidey.” She says with a bored tone.

“MJ.” He responds in kind.

“I liked it more when you were too nervous to be mean to me.” She huffs as she fans the blanket on the floor so she can sit on it and drape it over her shoulders. “Want some?”

She asks, knowing he'll say no.

“No, thank you. I have a heater.” He says letting Bubba walk in circles around his lap before the dog flops down onto his thighs. 

“But blankets are so cosy, don’t you wanna be cosy with me?” 

“I can’t be that close to you - I only just figured out how to say a full sentence around you without stuttering.” The eyes on his mask widen like he wasn’t supposed to let that nugget of information out. 

“Do I make you nervous, Spidey?”

“No, of course not.” He stammers out and she smirks at him, “go away.” 

“This is my roof, maybe you should leave.” She throws back. They do this, the casual flirting when they meet every evening. She’s unsure when it went from him using her roof to rest and she just so happened to want to see the moon that night, to the occasional run-ins, to spending two hours up here with him every night. But she doesn't hate it. 

“You’re so mean to me.” He says and she can make out his pout from behind his mask. 

“It’s why you like me, Spidey.” She replies flippantly and goes to pull the bags of chips out of her backpack. She used to only bring one bag but quickly realised she’d only be able to get around a handful before he’d managed to scoff them all down. All while he ate by pulling his mask away from his face and quickly shoving a crumbled handful into his mouth. She’s only ever seen the skin of his chin and a slither of his neck. But she doesn’t mind. 

“It is.” He says quietly. Michelle hums in response as she digs some candy bars out from the bottom of her bag - if she had brought salad once and he grimaced, no one brought it up. 

“It is why I like you - not that, it's the only reason. There’s a multitude of reasons why I like you. But you being mean to me is one of them.”

She knows he must have liked her a little bit seeing as they’ve been coming to the roof for over a month at this point - but having that confirmation is nice. 

“I mean the main reason is Bubba but -”

“Nerd.” She says with a smile while offering him some of the candy with the same name. She recognises him beaming at her from behind the mask and she feels herself mirroring his response. 

* * *

It’s a quiet morning and MJ has already done a deep clean of the shop and rearranged some flowers that were bothering her. It’s these moments where she wants to talk to someone about the random small accomplishments in her day to day life that she begrudges the relationship she’s building with Spider-Man. Sure, she likes the deep conversations, she likes talking about her family without the pitying gazes but she wants the mundane things as well. But he’s a superhero. A superhero with a secret identity. So him not giving her his number isn’t something she should worry about. Even though it bothers her sometimes.

Sighing and sitting on her stool, Michelle decides what to do next. She could use this time to order next week’s delivery - or she could catch up on her college work - or she could read the last three chapters of her book. 

Pulling the book out of her bag, she leans down to pet Bubba on the head and gives him a treat because he’s a good boy. She’s hardly a paragraph in when the bell above the door rings. Racing to read the last words of the sentence and mark her place, she chances a look at the customer. 

And listen. Michelle likes talking and hanging out with Spider-Man. She likes how he makes her laugh without trying, and she likes how he rests his fingers lightly against her hand when she struggles to find the words, she really likes him. But she has missed looking at a face properly when they’re deep in conversation and it just so happens this guy entering her shop has a very nice looking face. 

“Hi.” He says and she notes that he looks nervous.

“Good morning.” She says back, staying in place behind the counter to see if he needs help. It’s always awkward otherwise when she’s gotta go sit down again.

“Erm -” the guy says, looking far too lost. So she figures he needs help.

“What are you after?” She replies, putting her book down. Before Michelle has a chance to get off her stool, Bubba runs around the register and she barely has time to usher an apology before the guy bends down to stroke him. Bubba immediately rolls on his back and begs for belly rubs. She hears the guy excitedly tell him he's a good boy and, well, he’s not wrong.

“Huh, he doesn't usually like people.” 

“Oh - erm, I just like dogs a lot.” He says, looking up at her and she’s struck with how pretty he is from any angle. 

“Still.” She says with a smile and doesn’t miss the way his eyes widen at her. She doesn’t hate it. “So, do you need some help?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.” He says, standing up and laughing when Bubba pulls at the bottom of his trousers. 

“Bubba -” she starts to chastise her dog, ”- I’m so sorry.” She says, moving to pick him up when the guy tells her it’s okay and drops to pick Bubba up himself. Michelle wouldn’t usually let just anyone pick up her dog, and nor does Bubba- but there’s something in this guy's eyes that suggests he’s not going to run off with him. 

“Is he called Bubba after Bubba Ray Dudley?” He asks while crooking his fingers under her dog’s chin. She perks up at the joke she heard a few weeks prior and she wants to tell him he has jokes as bad as Spider-Man. But one, she doesn’t know if it’s okay to tell anyone she speaks to the superhero. She assumes not or he’d come into the store, right? And two, she’s unsure if she wants this guy to think she’s flirting with him. She’s not even sure if she wants to.

“Please, if he was named after a Dudley boy it’d be D-Von.”

“You’re so right.” He says brightly at her and then turns and says, “Your mama's smart, huh?” to the dog. She smiles despite thinking that’s corny. Bubba seems to think so too because he wriggles till he’s put down and she watches him saunter to his cage.

“Tough crowd.” He says, running his hand through his hair and she smirks at the blush gracing his cheeks. 

“What can I help you with?” 

“Oh yeah! I need some flowers.” He says grabbing the strap of his backpack with both hands, tilting up onto his toes and offering no further guidance. She bites her lip to avoid smiling too wide. 

“Uhuh - anything else to go on?”

“Yes?”

She smirks at him and watches as his eyes follow the movement. 

“What are they for? Or who? Girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

He blushes and she starts wondering how far down his chest it goes, reminds herself to be professional and waits for him to stop stuttering. “I don’t have either of those things. Not that they’re things. People. People, not objects.”

“That you don’t have?”

“That I don’t have.” 

She tries not to smile at that information but she’s only one person. If she catches him watching the movement, she decides not to call him out on it. 

“So what do you need flowers for?”

“Oh, right. Flowers. It’s my Aunt’s birthday.”

“Okay -” 

“But she’s like my mum. Well, not my mum.” He starts and runs his hand through his hair again. “But she raised me so, like, think mother sized flowers.” 

She smiles at him. “Colour preference?” 

“She likes bright colours. Erm, but I don’t know what type - is, erm - is that enough to go on?”

“Yeah - do you have any idea how much you wanna spend?” She asks turning around to bend and pick up a container to hold the stems she picks. He doesn’t answer immediately which she thinks is fine, people often get caught up in not wanting to sound cheap. As if flowers aren’t just a nice surprise and it wouldn’t matter if you spent five dollars of fifty. 

But turning back to him she sees his gaze rise quickly from her hips to her face and his face flushes a colour so pretty she wishes she had flowers in the same shade. 

“Er - can you repeat that?” He says, resting his hand against one of the metal containers that hold flower stems. She’d call him out on his staring if her gaze didn’t drop to the borderline unreasonable muscles she can see from under his T-shirt. She definitely doesn’t get lost in the bulge of his bicep when she’s supposed to be helping him find flowers. 

She somehow tears her gaze away and back to his face to find a darker flush which suggests that there is the slight possibility that she has been caught. Thankfully for her, he’s spooked by the sound of sirens. _Un_ thankfully for her, his movement somehow manages to bring the container to the ground, covering her floor in water and tons of flower stems. She’d be in awe of his strength to move it with just his fingertips if she wasn’t seething that her feet were wet. 

“Shit, I’m so so sorry -” he starts and she’s too distracted by the carnage to notice him pulling the container from his fingertips. 

“Don’t worry about it -” she says with a little more annoyance than she means “- it was just an accident.”

“Right. So you’re good here?” He says, halfway out the door. When she raises an eyebrow in fury at him, he looks reasonably ashamed but leaves before she can call him out on it. 

“What the fuck?”

* * *

“You know-” he starts the second he sits down, and it’s annoying how happy she is to see him, “I saw the prettiest woman today.”

“Hello to you as well Spidey.” She says as he greets Bubba when the dog makes the leap to settle in his lap, and she really wants to take out her phone to take a photo, or take out her heart and place it in his hands. 

“Hi, MJ.” He whispers while leaning over to kiss her cheek through his mask and she definitely does not blush. “As I was saying, the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

“I am not interested in that opinion.”

“Mmm, okay but she had a really cute dog too.” He states casually and she can see the telltale signs of him smiling widely at her and for a split second, she imagines his smile is as cute as the guy’s from the flower shop earlier. And then she replaces that thought with the overwhelming annoyance that she felt for the rest of the afternoon as she mopped up and attempted to get Bubba to do anything other than pitter-patter in the mess.

“It was you, by the way.” He rushes out as if Michelle thought he was just casually mentioning a random woman to her. It makes her smile though and semi helps make her day better.

She bites her lip to stop the smile getting too wide but she’s not sure it’s particularly successful. 

“Stalking me at work, Spidey?” She asks with an eyebrow raise. 

“Always. If I wasn’t terrified someone would think I know you, I would have shared my cronut with you.” He replies, crooking his finger under Bubba’s chin. 

“Ashamed of me this early on? That’s difficult to come back from.”

The eyes on his mask widen and he stutters out the word ‘no’ so many times she’s not sure it’s a real word anymore. His fidgeting makes Bubba get off him and come back to her lap though and adding on to how dangerously hard it is to pretend to be mad at Spidey. 

“I’m messing with you.” 

“Oh, Em Jaaaay.” He replies with a whine and she thinks his mask puckers as he pouts and her smile takes over her face. She’s forgotten all about the flower incident that she’d been desperate to tell him about all day. He leans back against the wall and takes a deep breath as she shivers as a gust of wind hits them. She forgot her blanket today because she foolishly thought that four hours of sun meant it was summer, and she can’t be bothered to go get it.

“Oh!” He says webbing his backpack over to him and pulling out a sweater. She lets him shake it out and she lifts her arms up when he motions for her to, and he pulls it tightly to her body. He’s closer than usual, his hands linger around the back of her neck as he pulls her hair out and she feels herself stop breathing. 

“You stopped breathing.” He says as if he also stopped breathing.

“Shut up.” 

“Do I make you nervous?” He asks with his fingers trailing down her neck and she curses herself as she swallows thickly. 

“No.” She replies, barely resisting the urge to roll her eyes as her voice breaks. “What’s the sweater for?”

“I don’t want you to be cold.” He whispers. He tilts her chin up slightly and moves his face towards her neck slowly. Her heart thumps in her chest and even if he couldn’t hear it he could probably feel it. She chooses not to be embarrassed about it. She brings her hands up to hold onto his wrists. When her hands make contact with his, she feels a pull on the neck of her jumper. 

“What -” she gasps when Spider-man jumps back to allow Bubba to jump into space he was once occupying. Michelle cannot find it in her to be annoyed at her cock block of a dog because he’s adorable. She fusses over Bubba and takes the chance to take a few deep breaths, that she can see Spidey mirroring next to her. 

Pulling the jumper over her fingers, she catches Spider-Man pulling his phone out and she tries to school her face to mask the disappointment that he has to leave. She chooses to feign her indifference by cooing at her dog who has now decided that he does not care for her. She looks over at Spider-Man when he hasn’t said anything about the emergency, just as a flash of light goes off. 

He’s taking a photo of her and the thought makes her feel lighter than air and terrified that he might like her as much as she thinks she likes him. 

“What are you doing?” She says with laughter lacing her words.

“Jesus, you’re photogenic.” He says as he stares at his phone. She doesn’t usually like people taking her photo without her being able to see what the finished result looks like, but he’s staring at it and she can pretend it looks like he thinks it should be in the Louvre so she lets him get away with it. 

“Need photos for your spank bank Spidey?”

“ _Michelle_.”

She laughs heartily at him, “What? My sweater not doing it for you?” She asks with a wink.

He scoffs at her but it doesn’t appear to have any heat behind it, “you’re a menace. And it’s my sweater.”

“You’re not letting me keep it?” She says with an exaggerated pout, “but what if I get cold at night? Gunna warm me up some other way?”

“You’re an asshole.” He huffs but she watches as he not so subtly pulls another sweater into his lap.

“If you give me your number, I’ll send you special photos.” She says, jokingly but she raises her eyebrows in what she hopes is a seductive way when he looks at her - it works if his not so subtle moan is anything to go by. She watches as he rubs his hand over his face and across his head. She wonders what colour hair he has. 

“I -” he starts appearing to mull it over.

“I’m kidding.” 

“Oh. Yeah, of course.”

“You lose your phone like twelve times a week and I don’t need half of New York seeing my naked body.” She says casually as she watches the eyes of his mask widen. She thinks his gaze dips down the length of her body but she can’t be sure. 

“That’s the only reason, huh?” 

“Mmm, well that, and you won’t give me your number.” She replies with a smile. They’ve only been coming to the roof for a little bit, it would be weird for him to give his number out to any person who spends a few evenings with him, so she doesn’t mind. Even if she does want to tell him about the cute puppy she saw on her lunch break. 

“If it helps I really want to.” He whispers leaning towards her.

“Yeah?” She replies as quietly. 

“Yeah, I really want those photos.” 

Michelle throws her head back in laughter and pushes at his shoulder calling him an asshole. 

“And -” he starts when he catches her hand in his. “I always want to talk to you.”

“Needy.”

“Your fault.”

“How is your neediness my fault?” She says while lacing their fingers together and pulling herself closer to him. 

“You make me want to know your opinions about the different sandwich fillings when I go to a new bodega. You make me want to send you the new piece of graffiti art that I see on the subway. You just-” he says wistfully, she imagines his eyes looking at her softly, “-make me wanna talk to you, all of the time.” 

“So -” she starts uncharacteristically choked up but shoving the cough back down her throat, “-what you’re saying is my plan to seduce you is working?”

“You’ve already won me over. And you didn’t even have to do anything.”

“Are you quoting Alanis Morissette at me?”

“Mmm - tell me you don’t like it, Michelle.”

“Oh, fuck you.”

* * *

The bell rings but Michelle’s mid flower-move so she shouts out a ‘hello’. 

“Hi.” Someone hesitantly says, and she recognises the voice but she can’t place from where. She heaves the bucket onto the rack and wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. She stops in her tracks when she sees the borderline criminal from a couple of days ago. 

“Oh.”

“Hi.” He says again and this time it comes with a smile and she feels the annoyance lift from her body but her eyebrows stay furrowed. 

“I’m so sorry about the other day. Knocking all the water on the floor.” He mumbles out as if she’d forgotten what had happened. “And then running away when I should have helped you clear it up. Well, I should have cleared it up.” He runs his hand through his hair and looks adequately sheepish. 

“So erm, here -” he says looking around the store and grabbing three light pink peonies and shoving them into her hand, she takes them with a raised eyebrow. “And here.” He says placing a fifty dollar bill in her hand. 

“I don’t know how many flowers I destroyed but if that's not enough that I can run to the ATM.”

“The flowers were fine.”

“They were? Oh, good. That’s good.” He says with a smile but he still looks like he wants to die. 

“So I don’t need this.” She says handing him back his note, “but I’ll keep these,” she says pulling the peonies to her chest.

“No, please keep it - I should have helped and I had to be somewhere and that’s not an excuse - May would be so mad at me.”

“Your Aunt?” She asks, half because she remembers and half because she thinks it will stop him rambling.

“Yeah!” He responds excitedly. 

“Did you get her flowers?” She asks with a smirk. 

“Oh, no. But it’s not her birthday till tomorrow. I was just trying to be early because things often go wrong.”

“Bright colours, right?” She says, moving around some of the containers she still has to move into position.

“Yeah.” 

“Okay - here, hold these and I’ll find you something.” She says successfully giving him the fifty dollars back while placing the peonies on her register. 

“Are you sure?” He says following her around the store.

“It’s my job.” She says with a smile.

“I know, but - okay, thank you.” 

“You’re welcome…” 

“Peter.” He responds holding his hand out and she laughs lightly at him but takes his hand anyway. 

“Michelle. What about carnations?”

He smiles widely at her and if it makes any lingering annoyance for him fade away then no one calls her out on it. It turns out Peter is not in a rush today. It turns out the muscles Michelle fawned over the last time he was here are put to good use as he helps her move the flower containers around. It turns out he stores a wicked amount of puns in his pretty head and is incapable of not acting awed whenever she says something about herself. It turns out Bubba likes him way more than he likes her. She’d be mad about it if they weren’t so adorable together. 

It’s only when Peter runs to the bakery down the street because she offhandedly mentioned she wanted a cheese roll that Spider-Man enters her thoughts for the first time. She tries not to think about it too hard. She fails, but ultimately he’s pushed out of her mind again when Peter returns with two rolls for her, five for himself and a bag of dog treats for Bubba. 

“You know -” she says around a gulp of apple juice he also picked up for her, it’s her favourite and she’s glad he has a good guess, “- you remind me of someone.” 

“Oh yeah?” He says and she thinks he looks a little nervous but he’s been bouncing around like a puppy all day so she’s not entirely sure what he’d look like if he was calm. 

“Mmmm. Thanks for the roll.”

“Are you not gonna tell me who?” He asks with an eyebrow raised.

“You don’t know them.” She replies, hiding her smile behind a roll when he pouts at her.

“Are they cool?”

“Nah.”

“Well do you like them?” He asks with his eyebrows so high they’re almost touching his hairline.

“They’re my favourite.”

His answering smile takes her breath away and she forgets to realise that when she pictured Spider-Man’s face, he looked like Peter.

* * *

While Michelle sits on the roof with Bubba, waiting for Spider-Man, she thinks about Peter and if she should feel bad about her friendship with him. She knows she shouldn’t entertain the thought that she can’t be friends with a guy, but she’d be lying to herself if she thought there was anything remotely friendly about the way they spoke to each other. 

She decides she’ll speak to Spider-Man about whatever their relationship is tonight. It’s been long enough, right? She tries not to feel self-conscious when she tries to determine whether or not a superhero would like her. She’s like 67% sure he does. He definitely spends enough time with her that he couldn’t possibly have anyone else he sees - unless it’s throughout the night. If she were to ask him about the tabloid gossip columns that run about him and Black Cat, that could be sly enough, right? 

Bubba sees Spider-Man coming before she does, and they both watch him swing from building to building. Spider-Man flips twice as he lands with an exaggerated finish on the rooftop in front of her.

“7.”

“What?! That was one of my better dismounts, MJ.”

“Your feet are flat to the floor, Spidey.” She says with a smile as he looks down and curses himself when he notes his heels are firmly on the ground.

“Can you put it up to a 7.5 if I give you a treat?” He says pulling his backpack off and cocking his head to the side. 

“Are you talking to me or Bubba?”

“Bubba.” 

“Asshole.”

“Come on, MJ.” He says as he moves to sit next to her, “we both know you’re the resident asshole in this relationship.”

This is it. This is the segway she’s been waiting for. Repositioning herself so she’s tilted towards him, Michelle goes to open her mouth but as soon as she does, Bubba immediately hops out of her lap to rest in Spider-Man’s, and her lips turn into a pout instead. 

“Cheer up, buttercup. I bought snacks.” He says, tapping her lips with his index finger, “boop.” 

“Dork.” 

“Anything for you. So - I have a game for us to play.” He states casually as he brings out a Tupperware container full of cake slices and another full of trail mix. 

“We’ll take turns to throw this -” he points to the mix, “- at each other and if you catch it in your mouth you can ask the other a question and they have to tell the truth. But if you miss, the other can ask you a question.”

She laughs but agrees, “this seems like an unfair game. I don’t have your special senses.”

“Sucker. And you already agreed. Don’t worry - you don’t wanna catch any anyway. My Aunt made this for you and she’s an awful cook.” 

“For me?” Michelle chokes out.

“Yeah. May is very fond of you.”

“Oh, yeah?” She asks, attempting nonchalance but ultimately failing. If she thought about it for a second longer instead of trying to wrap her head around the fact he talks about her, she might have recognised the name. “Am I a topic of conversation often?” 

“Of course.” He states as if that was obvious. “I talk about you all the time.”

“Oh.”

“Ready?” He asks seemingly unaware that she’s having a moment. 

“Yeah - yes.” She replies opening her mouth and then gargling out, “throw multiple so I have a better shot.” 

“You’re adorable.” He says as he throws a handful of trail mix at her and she successfully catches none. 

“Dammit.” 

“What’s your favourite flower?” She hears him ask as she watches Bubba lazily eat the scattered crumbs. 

“Black Dahlias.” 

“Like the murder?” He asks while throwing more snacks towards Bubba.

“Yeah.”

“I haven’t seen them in your store? Unless they’re not actually black?” Her neck snaps up to his as the eyes on his mask widen.

“You’ve been in my store?” 

“I -” she watches as he gulps and all she can think about is that she’s seen his face, “- I can just see in the store when I sit on the rooftop opposite. I sit there sometimes when I need a break.” he says quietly. She doesn’t fully believe him and part of her wants to push - wants to satisfy her curiosity. It’s the same part of her that really wants to know where they stand, but she won’t pressure him if he’s clearly not ready. She just hopes she doesn’t regret it. 

“They’re not completely black, they’re more red. I don’t sell them.” She says, a little more strained than she would like, but she doesn’t blame herself and he doesn’t call her out on it. 

“Why not?”

“They’re not particularly popular and it makes me sad when they die and then my apartment ends up as a Dahlia graveyard.”

“Why are you this cute?” He says with a tilt of his head and she rolls her eyes. 

“So, what is your favourite flower that you _do_ sell?”

“Carnations.” She replies with a smile, and her heart beats a little faster trying to decide why he wants to know this. She settles her face into nonchalance and says, “My turn.”

It turns out Michelle should have asked for the rules of the game before telling him she’d play because she ends up throwing trail mix at his mask and they end up just asking each other the questions so Bubba doesn’t eat his entire body weight in snacks. 

Michelle keeps her questions neutral but there’s still a thrill that runs through her at the end of the night when she knows Spider-Man’s favourite colour ("red obviously, MJ"), his favourite meal ("lasagna as long as May doesn't make it") and his favourite animal ("Come on MJ, you know groundhogs are everyone's favourite animal"). She does, however, use one question to satisfy her growing need to understand what they are. 

“Why do you keep coming back here?” She whispers as she looks down at his mask, where his head is in her lap. He simply answers, “you’re my favourite.”

* * *

The next morning she gets up earlier than usual to take Bubba on a long walk and she ignores his grumbles as they pass their usual turning point. March is one of her favourite months of the year because the wildflowers start to appear, and as she pays for her coffee and bagel, she thinks about how good the beginning of this year has been.

Ever since Peter has started dropping into the store on an almost daily basis, her boy troubles have gotten her in a slight pickle and she’s not sure what to do about it. So she does the only thing she can think of, she calls her best friend, Betty. It turns out trying to describe the situation without mentioning that one of them is a masked vigilante is extremely difficult, especially as her coffee hasn’t kicked in yet. Betty manages to persevere although Michelle thinks she might owe her dinner for calling her at the crack of dawn asking for advice while only giving her half the facts. Michelle is left with the task of figuring out what it is she wants from a partner, and which of them best line up to that list. 

As she opens the store Michelle realises she’s well and truly stumped, because they’re both unreasonably similar and what she’d really like is for them to combine themselves to form one person. She grunts and lays her face against the counter as she realises that’s never going to happen. So she should let one of them down, right? Sure, neither of them have technically asked her out yet but if the roles were reversed she’d be pretty peeved if either of them happened to have a partner. 

“Are you alright?” She hears Peter ask, and she’s annoyed she didn’t hear the bell ring.

“Yeah, just tired.” She replies, lifting her head off the counter with a small smile.

“Did you take Bubba on a long walk?” He asks, placing a cup of tea in front of her. She squints at him because that's exactly what she did and she’s unsure how he always seems to be clued up.

“How did you know?”

“He’s not pulling at my trousers.” He replies and she laughs lightly at him. 

“He’s sleepy. Little fatty ate so many snacks yesterday and he’s grumpy with me because we had to exercise this morning. He’ll probably sleep all day.”

“Lucky.”

“How are you?” Michelle asks around a yawn, placing her chin in her hand.

“Good.” He replies but looks at her like he’s weighing something, “are you sure you’re okay?”

“I just - there’s a thing I have to figure out and I don’t want to.”

“With the store?” 

“Yeah.” She lies and feels awful about it.

“Wanna talk about it? I happen to know at least one thing about flowers. But that one thing is that they’re pretty.” He replies with a smile that makes her chest feel full.

“Don’t you have work?” 

“I wanted to see you.” Peter blushes. 

She bites her lip to stop herself smiling too wide, “I like two different flowers but there's only space for one.”

“You definitely can’t have both?” He asks casually like he thinks she might actually be talking about flowers, and she can’t deal with how precious he is. Could she have both? Probably not. Should she ask anyway? Huh. 

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Hmm. Well, everything else in here looks great so clearly, you know what you’re doing. Go with your gut, MJ. Write a pros and cons list. Make them fight it out. Pick your favourite.” 

“What if I pick wrong?” She says quietly, playing with the lid of her cup. Peter looks at her like he’s realised she isn’t talking about flowers. Like he might know she's talking about him. 

“You’re the smartest person I know, Em. Whatever you chose is going to be the right choice for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Peter leaves after forcing her to take the doughnut he bought to help her have a better day, and he can’t possibly realise that he’s made it worse. He can’t realise it’s impossible to choose between two people that make her smile without trying to do so. Between two people she wants to spend all of her time with. She’s never been more confused as to what to do. If only picking between two flowers was the worst thing she had to do today.

* * *

Her face doesn’t flinch and she’d be proud of that if she wasn’t squeezing her hands so tight to keep them from shaking. Michelle sees his lips move aggressively but she can’t figure out what he’s saying. She can’t hear his voice over the thunder of her blood rushing through her ears. She’s the smartest person she knows, but even if she wasn’t she would be able to figure out what he was demanding. 

The gun pointed at her face helps that. So why can’t she spin and take the money from the register like he clearly wants? She probably should have seen this coming at some point - but for some misguided reason, she thought maybe her flower shop would be immune to a gunpoint robbery. She’s thankful for a moment that Bubba is sleeping under the counter, she very slowly moves to close the crate door with her foot - praying to a God she doesn’t believe in that it won’t make a sound. 

“Money!” The guy with the majority of his face covered screams with a shaky hand. The thought of her masked friend comes to mind and if she didn’t miss him before, she definitely does now. The masks do the same thing. They're hiding their identity. There’s no time to mull over the differences between the two of them. 

She doesn’t know the reason this guy is here. She thinks this might be his first time doing this and she wishes she could ask why. If it’s for food? For drugs? She has other ways to help him if it’s either of those things - but she can’t ask when he has a gun to her face. It’s not a fair or reasonable request. 

Michelle manages to nod her head slightly, going to turn towards the register. She’s not usually on board with negotiations or demands - she’d fight if someone came for her - but she knows her limitations. And she’s not winning against a gun. 

As she goes to move she wonders where Spider-Man is. He’s known for helping with things like this. And he would definitely be helpful right now. But she can’t blame him for not being here when she truly needs him. She hasn’t even managed to call the police so even if she did have his number, there’s no way she would have been able to get a hold of him. 

Luckily for her, before her back is fully turned, she hears the shop door open and the familiar thwip of a web and lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Because he’s here. 

“Get away from her,” Spider-Man says and she’s never heard him this angry before and he's not masking it in the same way. She watches his fingers shake but the web connects with the gun anyway and it’s yanked out of the guy’s hand. He makes quick work of removing the robber from her store and tells her to call the police. She doesn’t want to, but she does it anyway. Maybe if he’d robbed her without the gun, she would let it go. 

Michelle watches Spider-Man outside clearly trying to calm himself down and she wonders if it’s her. She knows it is, but pretending she doesn’t know this is a fraction of the reason he doesn’t want to get close to her helps her in thinking that they may ever progress past sitting close on a rooftop. 

She wants him to stop squeezing his hands and come hug her. She wants him to tell her it’s going to be okay. She wants him in a way she knows she can’t have him.

“Ma’am -” she hears him say with the door propped open, and the robber webbed to the lamppost outside, she looks over to him confused because he isn’t using her name, “- I can’t be here when the cops turn up. Are you going to be okay?”

Well, not really but what can she say? I know we’re friends and we teeter on the edge of _something_ whenever the sunsets on the roof. But I have a burning desire to see you behind your mask, and I desperately want you to stay and comfort me but asking would only hurt us both because I know you can’t do that? I wish I knew who you were? Right now I wish I knew your identity and I’d take the over knowing you’re Spider-Man?

“I’m fine.” She replies with a small smile. He doesn’t seem to believe her but he leaves anyway. She watches as he swings away and the police turn up to take the guy and the gun away from her store. She knows they’ll be back for a statement but she’s glad she has a breather. Turns out having a gun in your face really takes it out of you. 

It also works out that even though she watched the police take him away, the nervousness that it could happen again works through all of her thoughts. There’s nothing she could do differently this time around. Maybe she could close up early? Will the thoughts still be the same tomorrow? 

Her thoughts go back to Spidey and how he’ll never be able to be there for her in this kind of way. She knows it’s unfair because he literally just saved her life. She knows it’s selfish to want more than that. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about it when she wraps her arms around herself and wills the tears not to fall. 

Her heart jolts but she does not shriek when the shop door swings open. She grabs a roll of sellotape and decides she’s never gonna make it out alive if this is how she acts when she’s spooked, but she drops it on the counter when she sees him standing there a little dishevelled as if he changed in a hurry. 

“Peter.” She breathes out, unable and unwilling to hide how glad she is to see him. There’s a lump in her throat that she tries to attribute to the earlier incident but it’s tricky. 

“Hey, are you okay?” He says rushing to her register. “I erm - saw on the news.” He says and his eyes are so frantic like he’s checking she’s not hiding any injuries, that she forgets to ask, why her not-robbery would have made the news.

“I’m fine.” She says, but she wouldn’t believe it either.

“Em.” He says softly and makes a move for her hand and she takes it willingly, moving around the register so she’s closer to him. When she’s within touching distance, he pulls her into him. Michelle lets him fold her into his arms. 

“You’re okay.” He repeats into her hair when she tucks her face into his neck. 

“I know, dork.” She replies because she hates feeling vulnerable, hates how easy it is to feel safe with him when she felt anything but seconds ago. If she allowed herself to think about it for longer than a second, she’d figure out she really doesn’t like feeling like she’s falling for two people. 

“It’s okay to not be, as well.” 

“I know.” She says wrapping her arms tightly around him and taking a few deep breaths she hopes he doesn’t notice. 

“Why don’t you shut the shop early?”

“I -”

“I’ll buy you pizza.” He says before she can give some excuse for not shutting early even though she desperately wants too. She’s supposed to see Spider-Man later and she has no way of telling him she can’t make it and she feels awful. She knows it’s not his fault that he couldn’t stay, and she doesn’t want to compare the two but Peter _is_ here. And he wants to spend time with her and she wants to spend time with him. So she says okay. 

He smiles and kisses her forehead as he makes her sit down behind the counter, bends to stroke a sleeping Bubba and goes to move the flowers from outside, inside. She smiles every time he comes back in holding way too many containers to not be hurting himself - but he looks at her every time he’s facing her way and she swears his eyes light up every time he reassures himself she’s there. 

She struggles to think about Spidey when Peter is around. But if she thought about the one she wanted there, she’d realise they do the same kind of thing. They’re both kind. They both make her laugh. She just knows what one of them looks like and she can’t get over this random cruelty that she doesn’t think is reasonable to call cruelty. So she’s falling for two people that she wishes could be one person, what a tragedy.

“You okay?” Peter says, walking towards her when all the flowers are in place. She nods at him with a tired smile. 

“Here.” He says, handing her a five-dollar bill and a couple of carnations. “A pretty flower for the prettiest person.” She rolls her eyes fondly at him and tries to ignore the burning behind them. She lets him pick up Bubba and lace his hand through hers as she shows him the way to her apartment. 

She forgets to wonder if Spider-Man waited around - if he’s sat on a rooftop and can see her holding hands with someone else. It’s not his fault he can’t be there for her in this way, not yet. But it’s not her fault she needs the comfort either. 

* * *

Over the next few days, Michelle really only spends the nights alone. Peter has to leave to take his Aunt eggs at eleven in the evening and when she wakes up in the morning, Spider-Man has left a note on her windowsill that she replies to so he knows that she’s okay. 

She sees Peter when she goes to open that morning and he pretends to just be in the area, even though she saw him sitting on the steps as she left her building. She bites her lip ashe explains that he doesn't want to overstep but he thought she might like some company and she appreciates that he doesn’t make a big deal of her shaky hands.

When she goes to the roof that evening, she lets Spidey be extra clingy and if her hands never leave him, he doesn't call her out on it. She manages to get him to stop apologising for leaving after about twenty minutes, but she doesn't mention it when he holds her close and whispers apologises into her hair.

After a few days, Peter has to go back to work and she resists asking him whether he took time off just for her. She also forces Spider-Man to focus on his patrol after she helps him figure out what the Rhino's next move is.

That's what Spider-Man is doing today and her chest has felt tight since she woke up. She waits on the roof longer than she should. Longer than she would wait for a date. Longer than she wants to. It’s not the first time he’s been late to see her - but it is the first time he hasn’t turned up at all. 

She wishes she could feel angry and annoyed about the fact he didn’t find a way to tell her - but all she can feel is a sinking feeling in her gut. Is he okay? Is he hurt? She has no way of knowing. The news isn’t updating quickly enough and there hasn’t been a sighting of Spider-Man in hours. 

She tries to decide whether or not she should wait for him if he’s hurt he might need help - and truth be told she misses him. But she should also go to bed seeing as it’s past midnight. She sighs to herself when she realises she’s been sat here for two hours already - Bubba asleep in her lap. 

“Let's get you to bed, buddy.” 

When she gets into bed she can’t shake the feeling that she’s letting him down. She wants him, she wants whatever weird relationship they can possibly try and workout and the first time he might need her, she’s not going to be there. But she also knows that if they’re going to work out it needs to be realistic. She can’t stay up all night every time he goes to fight crime over the city - she doesn't have his enhanced powers, she’ll never survive. 

What she can do, is her best. So she slips out of bed and grabs two leftover slices of lasagna from the fridge and pops them in a Tupperware container. Uncapping a pen with her teeth, she finds one of about thirty notepads around her apartment, writes a quick note on it and places it on top of the food. 

_Hey Spidey,_

_Let me know you’re okay, please._

_\- MJ_

She leaves the container in her usual spot and hopes beyond all reason that he’s okay. She’d even take him just forgetting about their meeting if it meant he was okay. 

Sleep is difficult to find and she finds herself tossing and turning and dreaming of a Spider-like shadow crawling up the wall. Her eyes burn when she opens them to see if any time has passed at all. Squinting at her phone she sees it’s four am and grunts as she buries her head in between her pillows. She’s not going to check if the lasagna is gone. She’s not going to check the news. She’s just going to go back to bed because she has work in three hours. 

She curses herself as she walks up the fire escape, but she was never going to be able to sleep properly anyway. If she has a blanket draped around her shoulders to make her feel like a queen then no one's going to be awake at 4 am to call her out on it. 

“Cute cape.” She hears as she hops over the edge. Her head snaps around to see Spider-Man sitting against the wall. He’s alive and breathing, although his body movements suggest that that’s hard. His suit is hanging loosely around his waist and she thinks he threw his mask on when he heard her coming up the ladder because the eyes don’t quite line up.

She runs over to him as fast as possible without tripping over her blanket. Her heart is in her throat as she throws herself to the floor in front of him - eyes raking over his body as she searches for injuries. 

“You’re okay.” She says, and she knows there’s a fear in her eyes that’s going to make him feel guilty and she wishes it wouldn’t. She's just so glad he’s here. 

“You’re okay?” She asks again in question as she sits in front of him and lightly traces around his bruising shoulder with her fingertips. 

“I’m better now you’re here.” He replies quietly, reaching for her hand that’s not currently on his chest. She recognises all too late that this is the first time she’s seeing him without the suit - and she wonders if that's okay. If she should have asked to touch him. She goes to pull away and he stops her, “it feels better when you do that.” 

“Okay.” She says thickly. She wants to blame the burning in her eyes on the fact that she might have slept about forty minutes all night and not because he's hurt, but it’s difficult to stomach.

“How long -”

“Twenty minutes.”

She looks up at him and knows from the heavy breath that leaves his mouth that he hates that she’s seeing him like this. So she scoots closer, mirroring the way his legs are crossed and presses as close to him as their knees allow. She slowly leans in to press her lips to his shoulder, covering the littering of darkening bruises with light pecks.

He lets out a sigh and moves his other arm to circle her waist and lifts her into his lap and she quickly readjusts so her legs are wrapped around him. 

“Why are you up?” He says smoothing his hand over the hair and letting it settle at the back of her neck, while the other one goes tightly around her waist. 

“I -” she chokes out.

“I’m okay, Em.”

“But _I didn’t know_ that.” She replies in what could be a pitiful whine if she thought that far into it, but she can’t think of anything other than the feel of his steady heartbeat under her ear. 

“MJ -”

“It’s not… I’m not mad. I’m not trying to pressure you - I’m just -” she wraps her arms around his chest, “I’m just really glad you’re okay.”

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” He says with a kiss to the top of her head. 

“It’s okay.” She replies honestly. “I’d rather be worried about you than not know you at all.” His arms get tighter around her and she feels herself slipping back into the sleepiness she’s been begging for all night. “Wake me up when you’re ready to leave okay?” She asks with another kiss to his chest. 

“Okay.” He says with a deep breath and she feels selfish for coming up here and making him hide behind a mask when he’s injured just so she can feel his pulse under her fingers. 

“I won’t look if it’s easier with it off. I promise.”

“I trust you.” He replies and as her eyes lazily blink shut she sees the mask on the floor next to her. He pulls the blanket tight around the both of them and she feels the safest she ever has here. It’s not the way she wants to sleep with him for the first time, it’s definitely not the way she’s imagined late at night - but it’s perfect nonetheless. 

“If you’re not asleep pretend to be okay?” She hears him say quietly. “There’s so much I’m terrified to say but it’s easier when you’re here but I never have the courage to just say it.” She doesn’t make any notion that she’s still awake.

“I -” he starts and she feels him bury his hand in her hair at the back of her neck, “I am falling so hard for you. And there’s not a universe that exists where I will ever deserve you, but I want you anyway. And I know -” she feels him start to lightly shake and her heart constricts and she wraps her arms tighter around his chest, “-I know I should let you go. I know tonight isn’t the worst that you’re ever going to see me. But fuck, MJ. You’re all I think about. You have no idea how much better my life has been since you showed up.” 

She falls asleep to the sounds of him telling her how much he cares about her, and how he’s trying desperately to get over the fear of losing her. She can’t be sure which parts are real or whether or not she was dreaming. 

When Michelle wakes in the morning she’s in bed, alone. Bubba is already having his early morning nap on the couch and she digs the heels of her hands into her eyes so hard she can see stars. The memory of last night comes back and all she cares about is that he’s okay. 

Moving in her sheets she feels the crinkle of paper and as she reads it the wide smile that spreads across her face edges out the ache behind her eyes. 

_Morning MJ,_

_I can’t say sleeping with you isn’t my new favourite thing, and I can’t wait to see you later._

_My shoulder is better now and I’m going to speak to someone about how to bottle up your kisses because I’ve never healed so fast._

_I hope you have a good day, let me know when you wake up. I miss you._

_Spidey._

And at the bottom is his number. 

* * *

She’s only been in the shop for an hour and a half but it’s already been an unreasonably busy morning. Her order came in and she’s too tired to properly appreciate the wonderful blooms she has this week. She curses the fact she woke up late and didn’t get to make the world’s largest cup of coffee. But, she bargained with herself, if she could log this order, she could text Spidey back and shut the shop for five while she ran across the street to get coffee and doughnuts. 

The shop is technically closed for stocktaking anyway but she tries not to think about that otherwise her task will never get done. Someone else clearly doesn’t care about her closed sign because the bell above the door rings open. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, ready to tell whoever that they’ll need to come back but then he speaks. For a second she thinks it’s Spidey but she shakes that thought out of her mind and opens her eyes. She’s not mad at who is here instead.

“Morning, MJ,” Peter says cheerily, although when she looks at him he looks as tired as she feels. 

“Hey, Pete.” 

“Here.” He says holding out a large coffee and a bag full of something that smells like vanilla and happiness. 

“Oh my God, I adore you.” She says, making grabby hands at the cup. He smiles brightly at her and she mirrors the expression as best she can with a mouthful of coffee.

“Late night?” He asks as he jumps to sit on the register. 

“Kind of.” She replies while picking out a pasty. She holds it out for him to have some if he likes, but he just leans forwards and bites a bit off while it’s still in her hand and her brain short circuits. 

“Sorry.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Michelle says while her hand is still in the air and definitely way too close to his face.

“Still. Do you need help?” He asks, looking at the hundreds of flowers that have no homes.

“Don’t you have to go to work?” She asks, not unkindly. 

“It’s my day off.” He shrugs.

“Then why are you out this early!”

“I wanted to see you.”

“Oh.” She replies with a slight smile. 

“So -” Peter says jumping off the counter, squinting to read the labels on the containers, “the er, lis - pretty white ones go here, the roses would look nice here and then the fluffy looking ones could go here?”

“I’ve never heard so many consecutively wrong things.” 

“Em Jaaaay.” He says and she’s reminded of Spidey again. She knows how badly she wants them to be the same person. They share the same traits and she’s pretty sure they’re around the same height. She also knows that they can’t be the same person. Why would he spend time with her in the evening, making her fall for him, only to come and do the same thing during the day? It’s unnecessary and it’s confusing. She could just ask him, either one of them, but that could go south very quickly and she doesn’t have the brain capacity to figure that out this morning. 

“Em?” He says softly as if he’s going to spook her. 

“Sorry. Yeah, I’d like some help and by help, I mean bossing you around while you lift things for me?”

“Whatever you want.” He says with a smile, and she hates her traitorous heart for how loud it beats in her chest. He takes his sweater off and she thinks about how soft it looks and how she really wants to steal it but that seems a little too much like a relationship. One that she can’t bring herself to think about without a crushing amount of guilt. 

Over the course of the day, Michelle forgets how tired she is, and it’s all down to Peter’s presence. She laughs out loud more than she can remember doing when Peter talks to her about his work at the Daily Bugle. She wonders what he does. Maybe he’s a writer, maybe he takes photographs. She doesn’t have a chance to ask because he's firing joke after joke at her because he said it makes him happy when she laughs. 

When his watch dings with a message, his face falls. She feels bad for him, but he has been here for over four hours and the flowers were long since put away and the shop opened three hours ago. She didn’t call him out on staying because Bubba likes it when Peter’s around and because he’s cute when he attempts to help customers pick out flowers. 

He goes to leave and hovers by the door, she raises her eyebrow at him, “I adore you too, and tomorrow I’m going to get the courage to ask you out.” And then he’s gone. 

She didn't think about Spidey while Peter was here - in fact, she doesn’t text him back until she closes the shutters on the store. When she checks her phone later, she sees he hasn’t sent a response, so she chooses not to feel too bad about it. And when the thought of him and Peter crop up together in her mind again, she decides tonight she should talk to Spidey about it. About them. 

* * *

“So -” she starts shakily, and he grasps her hand in his. 

“What’s the matter?” He asks with such care, and she feels so selfish for wanting more. For needing more than what he's giving her. But she can’t keep trying to compare two perfect people with each other, it hurts too much to pretend she doesn’t want them both - but she knows that’s wrong. So, she takes a deep breath and just asks, “When are you going to tell me who you are?” 

“Em.” He replies and it sounds desperate but she has to power through. She can’t keep doing this. 

“Just, give me a time.”

“Is there someone else?” He asks quietly, ignoring her request. And Michelle hates that there is. She wonders if she’d wait for longer if Peter didn’t exist, but she spends more of the time away from Spidey picturing what could be instead of enjoying the time they did spend together and it’s weighing on her. 

“Not in the way you think.” She whispers and tries to keep her breathing level when he drops her hand to run it over his mask. 

“What, are you like, dating them or?”

“No, of course not. He just comes in the store sometimes.” The words burn coming out of her mouth because she knows it’s not true. She knows she feels something more for Peter than she would if he was just someone from the store - but if she lets herself think about how she’s fallen for two people she’s not sure she’s going to be able to sleep at night. She doesn’t want to choose - doesn’t think she can - and she’s selfishly hoping Spider-Man will do it for her.

“But you want to date him?”

“I want to be able to go to dinner, and I want to be able to kiss someone in Central Park, and I want to be able to date in public.”

“Michelle -”

“I’ll wait for you. If you would just give me any indication that you want to progress this.”

“I do - I, Em. I really want to, I just -” 

“What are you scared of?” 

“Losing you, Michelle! God, isn’t that obvious?” He says and she’s startled by the ferocity in his voice. “Sorry, fuck - I’m really sorry, I didn’t --” The tears well up in her eyes faster than she can figure out if they’re because of his outburst or because he won’t give her a time. 

“ _No_ , no, please -” he says with his arms out like he wants to touch her but won’t, “- _please_ don't cry. I can leave, I’m leaving, I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

“Stay.” 

“Em -”

“You didn’t scare me, I'm just, I...I don’t know what to do here.” She says with a sniff, but successfully holding back the rest of her tears.

“Just - can we just carry on as we are?”

“Please don’t ask me to do that.” She says quietly.

“Because you’ll say no?” He says with a strained laugh, and she’s never wanted to see his face more. 

“Because I’ll say yes.”

She can feel the weight of his stare even with his mask on. She can picture his eyes wide and pleading despite having no idea what he looks like. In her more selfish moments alone, she hopes he looks somewhat like Peter. She can't tell if she'll be disappointed or relieved if she ever gets to see his face.

“Say yes, please.”

“That’s not fair.” She wants to say with her whole chest but ends up whispering it while looking at her hands. “You won’t give me anything. And I _get_ it - it’s a secret and you’re scared and -” she sighs and spins to look at him. 

“I’d move mountains for you, Michelle.”

“I know, you know that’s not -”

“Come on MJ, I give you everything I can.” He says quietly and she knows it’s true. He gave her his number yesterday and she knows how big of a deal that was for him. But that doesn’t make it enough.

“Spidey.” She swallows because she needs a lot of courage to say this, knowing that if he turns her down, it’s not going to be because of her. Michelle knows he likes her - has some kind of feeling towards her. But it doesn’t mean it’s enough. 

She goes to open her mouth but he beats her to it, “MJ. Don’t - whatever you’re going to say. Please don’t. I just need -”

“Time?” She says a little more pointedly than she wanted to, but expressing her feelings has never been something that she’s particularly enjoyed. “We’ve been dancing around this for months and I just don’t - can you give me a time? Because I like you. I really _really_ like you.”

“I -”

“Let me finish, please.” He runs his hand over his mask again in an annoyingly familiar motion, but his answering nod shakes that from her mind. 

“I want to talk to my friends about you. I want you to come to my place and have dinner with me. I want to be able to see you outside of this rooftop. And I can’t do any of that while you’re in the suit. I know you trust me.” She says but then doubts herself. “You trust me right?”

“Yeah, Michelle, of course - you’re you. Of course.” 

“So give me a time.”

“Em. I -” She hears the hesitation in his voice and her chest aches. She knew weeks ago that this had gone too far. That although she might know him better than most people, there was a part of himself he might never share with her. And she kept coming up here anyway. 

“I can’t keep doing this.” She says, playing with the hem of her jeans, but she looks up when she sees his hands move in her peripheral vision. 

She watches as he bunches his mask up and under his nose with shaky fingers. His face is right there, and she can barely breathe. Something in her recognises his jaw, but another part of her that tells her that’s foolish. That there’s no way she could know his identity. Especially not well enough to recognise him, otherwise what would be the point in all this? If she already knows him he could just tell her.

“I know this isn’t enough -” he starts, and she thinks he’s modulating his voice still and if she’d taken a breath since he lifted the mask and she saw his unfairly sharp jawline, she might have thought about the reasoning behind it. 

But instead, she thinks about the way she desperately wants to kiss him. Or the way her heart beats faster because he’s _trying_. Or the way she thinks she’s in love with him. Or the way she feels awful about it because she thinks she really likes Peter. 

“But -” his shaky voice shakes the thought of Peter out of her head. And she leans forwards, grasps him by the back of the neck and kisses him. She feels him tense at first, which she laughs at because he’s supposed to have super senses and she’s excited to tease him about it once she’s figured out exactly what he tastes like. But then, his body posture softens and his lips move against hers and all she can think about is how to get him to make that breathy sound again. And how it would be so much more comfortable to kiss him if she straddled him.

He’s one step ahead of her and pulls her to his lap in a swift motion - placing his hands under her knees so she doesn’t scrape the gravel. 

She licks her tongue into his mouth as the kiss becomes needier, placing her hands at the back of his neck to pull him closer. 

"Touch me." She moans into his mouth when his hands haven't left the floor.

"Em -" he says with a gasp that sends a wave of pleasure through her, "- I don't want you to hurt yourself." He groans as he bites her lower lip.

Michelle grinds against his groin, smiling as his breath hitches. But then she swallows her laughter with a grunt as his hands move to her hips to roll her over him again. He wraps one arm tightly around her to pull her flush to him while he uses the other to web his bag over. He pulls a sweater that she recognises but can’t place from his bag, along with a t-shirt and places them under her knees.

“You’re adorable.”

“More or less adorable than that flower shop guy?” He asks tilting her neck to kiss under her jaw. She laughs breathily at him.

“Don’t ask me about him while you’re kissing me.”

“Why not?” He asks snarkily and she grinds against him in response.

“I don’t know what you look like so I’ll just end up picturing him instead.” She replies with equal amounts of snark.

“Is he cute?” 

“Very.” She whispers as she tugs the hair at the back of his head. 

“Do you think he’d buy you carnations?”

“He already has.”

“Fuck.” He says against her mouth, and she can’t attribute that to the hair-pulling or Peter. 

“Stop asking about him then.” She says, going to place her lips against him again but he pulls back, and though she can’t see them she thinks he is doing puppy dog eyes right now. 

“I know I’ve been hiding my jealousy well -” he starts and she pecks the pout he gives her when she laughs at him.

“Em.” He says in the most serious voice she’s heard since the gun incident. His hands rub slowly along her waist. 

“Pick me.” He breaths, “I know - I know I’m not the most desirable choice but I really really fucking like you.” He licks his lips and she tracks the movement, “and I promise I’m working hard to make it so we can be together. I’m trying _so_ hard I swear. So pick me. Please. Pick me over whatever his name is.”

“Peter.” She breathes out, barely able to comprehend what he’s asking her. 

_“What?”_

“What?” 

“Peter?” He says and she can’t place the tone.

“Yeah, is -” she’s cut off by him kissing her again. It’s not slow and soft, he’s kissing her like he has something to prove. Like he wants her to forget everything she knows, and it works. She can’t think of anything other than the feel of his lips under hers. The way his tongue teases its way into her mouth and makes her entire body feel like it’s alight. She forgets to think about their heavy conversation and she forgets to picture Peter’s face under the mask.

* * *

Michelle watches with a heavy heart as Peter walks across the road, looking for her through the window - she does not hide behind the flowers. He carries another bunch of flowers, though she can’t see what they are, and she wants to call him out on it but she can’t bring herself to do anything other than be nice to him. She hopes they aren’t for her. 

“Hey!” He says brightly as he opens the door.

“Peter.” She says kindly as she walks behind the counter - if he notices she doesn’t offer him a wave or a smile he doesn’t mention it. 

“Do you have any carnations?” He says with a brightness to his voice that she enjoys a little too much. She remembers her conversation with Spidey yesterday and her heart constricts at how badly she wishes they were the same person. She’s thought about it at length, wished upon countless stars she can’t see, but she’s never been that lucky. 

“Mmm, in what colour?”

“Oh. Erm, what are the options please?” He says with a smile that has her heart beating faster. She tells him and he picks the white ones, and if she internally celebrates because they’re her favourite, no one can tell. 

“Okay - erm. This doesn’t seem like enough so what else would you suggest?”

“Do I get to know what it’s for? Or are you just gonna ask me to help you arrange them with flowers from a different shop?” She says with her eyebrow raised but his smile doesn’t falter - if anything, it gets wider. 

“I’m telling someone that I love them.” He says casually and holds up another white flower -- a rose -- in question. It’s unreasonable for her heart to feel like it’s falling out of her chest. She was going to let him down if he did end up asking her out today. So, she should be ecstatic at this information. But she isn’t. She could play it up as confusion - she thought they were flirting this entire time and maybe they weren’t. 

She shakes her head to rid the thoughts from her mind and because roses are typical. He holds out snowdrops and she grins because he’s very cute and whoever he’s in love with is very lucky. 

“Okay. I’ll take eight of these and what, like, six of these?” 

“You want the heart paper?” 

“What would you want?” He asks and she wills her face to stay nonchalant but she’s not sure it works. 

“Hearts are nice.” She says breathlessly. 

“Well, I trust your opinion. I know I bought these elsewhere but in my defence, you don’t sell them.” She furrows her brows while she tries to figure out what flowers she doesn’t sell.

“Well, they’re lucky if you’re willing to go to _two_ different places.” She says, holding her hands out for his flowers. He just looks at her in a way that makes her blush. Like he’s talking about her. Like she’s his favourite thing. She lowers her arms and can feel herself pouting because he’s acting like he has information that she doesn’t have.

“I’m the lucky one.” He says quietly. “Did you know that some people are just insanely smart? They barely even need to try. But they do try anyway because they know they can make a difference in someone’s life.” He walks slowly towards her and she has to keep reminding herself that she wants Spider-Man. And she does, she just wishes she could get the thought of them being one person out of her mind. 

“Do you know how insane you have to be to own a flower shop while studying to be a social worker?” Her eyes flit across his face for any signs that he’s messing with her right now - she knows he wouldn’t, but she has to be sure.

“How do you know that?” She asks although she knows what she wants the reason to be. 

“You told me.” He says quietly. But she didn’t. She didn’t tell him, she told Spider-Man, and she’s beginning to let herself dare to dream that things could work out this well.

“You want a card with it?” She asks because she has to say something that isn’t spilling out the fact that she’s so unreasonably in love with him. 

“She sees me, you know.” He says, ignoring her question. She’d call him out on it if she weren’t desperate to hear the rest of his words. 

“Behind all the bullshit and the mask, she sees me - and she wants to stay. And I never thought I’d find that - never dared to wish for it beyond blowing out birthday candles.”

Her eyes track all the emotions on his face and she’s so stupid. She can imagine the mask over his face perfectly now when his smile is so wide his ears move halfway up his head. 

“And, she definitely likes my face,” he says with a smirk, and she rolls her eyes fondly at him in return. 

“I can’t complain. She’s so ridiculously out of my league.” He says stepping closer to the register. “She’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen and I’ve been to space.” He says, laying the second bouquet, a dozen black Dahlias, on the counter and she can’t remember how to breathe. 

“Spidey.” She whispers, trailing her fingertips over the petals. 

“I love you, MJ.”

“I love you.” She says back, completely sure in her heart that these two people she’s been falling for - she loves them both. And she can, now.

“I’m sorry.” They both say at the same time. He lets her go first.

“I didn’t mean to force you into this -”

“Em, you didn’t. I hate making you sad and I’d slay dragons if it meant you never cried again. When I saw how much this was hurting you I couldn't just do nothing. I would have told you yesterday but I’ve been trying to plan some kind of reveal for weeks - and I know it’s stupid because I could have told you at anytime. And yeah, I’m still scared. I’m terrified, I don’t think I’ll ever not be terrified of losing you, but it doesn’t matter. Nothing else matters but you.”

“You’re a cheese ball.” She says, but she’s smiling so hard her face hurts. 

“Would you come here please?” 

Michelle walks around the counter slowly, trying to digest this information, but all she really wants to do is bury her hands in his hair and kiss him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” He says, wrapping his arms around her waist when she’s close enough.

“It’s okay - I liked, or like, both of you.” She says quietly, leaning in, “wait - why were you so surprised I liked flower shop boy when you were him?”

Peter blushes slightly and his fingers fiddle with her T-shirt, “I didn’t know it was me.”

“You’re here all the time, how would I possibly have time to like someone else?” She says jokingly but honestly, she’s as stumped he didn’t know that as she is that she didn’t figure his identity out the second Peter walked into the store. 

“I’m not good enough for you as Spider-Man, MJ. How could I possibly be as Peter?” He replies quietly and her heart hurts at the thought that he doesn’t think he’s good enough. Like he doesn’t swing around New York saving kittens and helping anyone he can. Like he doesn’t bring her coffee every morning because he knows she’s tired even though he couldn't have had any more sleep than her. Like he isn’t the best person she knows. 

“Pete. I think the world of you.” 

Michelle watches as his eyes widen slightly and she can picture the way the lenses of his mask would move with the action and she laughs thinking about how blind she’s been.

“What?” He asks with a smile. 

“I’m just really glad Spider-Man fell to someone like you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re the best person I know.”

“I love you so much.” He says with her favourite smile. 

“I love you more.” 

She leans in to kiss him and as their lips brush she feels Bubba come and paw at Peter’s legs in excitement. Lazy ass dog couldn’t have done this five minutes ago? 

“I should just get used to your dog ruining my moments, right?”

“Totally.”

“Can you close early?” Peter asks, fully ignoring Bubba, which he doesn’t realise he will regret later. 

“Scandalous. I can’t just close the shop so I can kiss some guy.” She says with a smile, wishing there was a way she’d trained Bubba to flip the sign for her. 

“What about so you can kiss your boyfriend?” He says, leaning in to kiss her and it somehow feels even better than last night. The feel of his lips against hers feels so much better when she can thread her hands through his hair. When she can feel his eyelashes moving against her cheek. She loops her hands around his neck and he moves his to her thighs, urging her to jump so he can lift her up. She feels him moving them as their kiss deepens. 

“Yeah, that would be fine.” She breathes against his lips as he flips the sign to _closed._

She’s thought about the differences between Peter and Spider-Man at length, and the only thing she’s ever been able to discern is that they were both as good as each other. She had tried to decide between things that wouldn’t have mattered in the end. They’re both unreasonably kind and considerate, they’re both loyal to a fault, and they’re both her favourite people. As if she would have ever been able to decide between Peter’s smile and Spider-Man’s hugs anyways. 

In the end, she had hoped she would never have to choose, and as luck would have it - she doesn’t. As he moves them back towards the register, Michelle thinks about how excited she is to have dinner with him in a restaurant and how she can’t wait to go to his apartment. Peter sits her down on the counter and stands between her legs, and she thinks about how she can’t wait to introduce him to her friends and how she hopes he’ll get along with her dad. She listens to Bubba huff and watches as Peter’s eyebrows furrow and she thinks it’s because he feels bad but instead he asks, 

“I’m having dinner with May later, would you like to join us?” 

“I’d love to,” she says as he leans in to kiss her, “We should take flowers.” He presses his lips to hers and she thinks he didn’t hear her. 

“What about carnations?” 

**Author's Note:**

> help.
> 
> come say hi on tumblr!: i-lovethatforme
> 
> TW: attempted store robbery with a gun.


End file.
